


Wanted: Skating Lessons

by slightlied



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Krav Maga, M/M, Marble Busts, WHO KNOWS!!!, victor's... who knows what victor's up to, yuuri's still a skater (albeit retired)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9973757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlied/pseuds/slightlied
Summary: Wanted: Skating LessonsHi. I am Victor and I need to learn how to skate before Saturday. My parents have been paying for me to get skating lessons every week for the last fifteen years but I never actually attended any of the lessons and I spent the money on marble busts instead. Now they want me to perform to ‘Stammi Vicino’ at their wedding anniversary on Saturday.If you can teach me, be here at Ice Castle tomorrow at 7:27am with an extra pair of skates. I am a fast learner (well, at least my dog Makkachin is–it took me only two weeks to teach him how to roll over) so I am pretty sure I will pick it up quickly. In return, I can teach you how to say some pick-up lines in Russian or tell you some facts about my love life. Whichever you prefer. Not both, though.Yours sincerely,VictorPS. I’m a size 8---Or, Yuuri answers an ad he sees on Ice Castle's community board.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted to my tumblr but at [exile-wrath's](http://exile-wrath.tumblr.com) encouragement i thought, o what the hell. this is goin on ao3
> 
> inspired by [this](http://distinguishedbaloney.tumblr.com/post/138548504996) post that [actualyuuri](http://actualyuuri.tumblr.com) sent me
> 
> disclaimer: not to be taken seriously at all
> 
> disclaimer no. 2: no... like rlly

**_Wanted: Skating Lessons_ **

_Hi. I am Victor and I need to learn how to skate before Saturday. My parents have been paying for me to get skating lessons every week for the last fifteen years but I never actually attended any of the lessons and I spent the money on marble busts instead. Now they want me to perform to ‘Stammi Vicino’ at their wedding anniversary on Saturday._

_If you can teach me, be here at Ice Castle tomorrow at 7:27am with an extra pair of skates. I am a fast learner (well, at least my dog Makkachin is–it took me only two weeks to teach him how to roll over) so I am pretty sure I will pick it up quickly. In return, I can teach you how to say some pick-up lines in Russian or tell you some facts about my love life. Whichever you prefer. Not both, though._

_Yours sincerely,  
Victor_

_PS. I’m a size 8_

 

—

Yuuri stares at the bulletin board in front of him. Specifically, at the long block of 18pt text sticking out like a sore thumb where it’s posted amidst local business flyers and coupons.

“You should do it.”

He startles to see Yuuko sticking her head out from behind the rental skate counter.

“He’s cute. The guy, Victor,” she tells him. She plucks out a pencil from behind her ear and jabs it in his direction. “You should definitely do it.”

Yuuri blushes. He knows Victor. Well, he doesn’t _know_ Victor. But he knows that Victor’s cute. It’s a bit hard to miss the attractive silver-haired foreigner who arrived at Hasetsu with four U-Haul trucks and a large poodle. Yuuri always passes by his house walking to Ice Castle, and the pile of recyclable cardboard boxes in his yard only seems to grow. It’s been two months since he arrived but it looks like Victor’s still unpacking.

“I mean, you’ve already skated to Stammi Vicino, right?” Yuuko’s still talking.

“That was _ages_ ago. I think that was my senior debut.” Yuuri wrinkles his nose, trying to cast his mind back.

Yuuko only shrugs, punching numbers into a calculator on the countertop and scribbling onto a clipboard by the cash register. Yuuri looks back at the ad and shakes his head. He won’t do it. He wouldn’t even be getting paid. What would he even get out of it?

_One-on-one time with the foreigner you’ve been crushing on since he arrived,_ a wicked voice says in his head.

He firmly pushes the thought away. No, he won’t do it.

“See you tomorrow,” Yuuko calls when Yuuri makes his way out the door.

—

He arrives at 7:23am.

Takeshi greets him with a wolfish grin and a pair of skates. “Bit early for a date, isn’t it?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and takes the skates. He tells him what he had kept repeating to himself in earnest on his way over: “It’s a skating lesson. I’ve taught plenty of skating lessons.”

Because they _are_ just skating lessons. And Yuuri loves skating. He would love for more people in the world to also enjoy skating. This is what this all is, really–just him doing his part in making sure the sport doesn’t die out.

Takeshi snorts. “Yeah, to six-year-olds. You’ve never taught a grown man. Who’s attractive. An attractive grown man.”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything to that. He’s not wrong, although he doesn’t appreciate that his friend can’t just go along with his unconvincing justifications. Then again, Takeshi has never done that.

No, Takeshi has always made it worse.

“You’re gonna _hold his hand_ as you guide him along the ice, and you’re gonna _catch him_ when he falls, your arms will just _wrap around_ all that hot foreign boy _muscle_ –”

Yuuri lets the rec door slam behind him as he steps into the rink area, ignoring the muffled snickering that rings in response. He carefully sets down the extra skates on a bench before sitting down and digging his own out of his duffel bag. He’s in the middle of tightly tying up his laces when the door busts open again, and his head snaps up.

Victor.

Yuuri takes in the sight of him wearing a black shirt and sweatpants, panting slightly like he’d sprinted here. It’s the first time he’s seen Victor dressed so simply–he looks just like Yuuri, actually, except Yuuri’s wearing long sleeves and he’s also not Russian, tall, or good-looking–and look so out of breath. Victor’s usually so fashionable, relaxed, completely in his element.

(Not that he spends a lot of time looking at Victor or anything. He doesn’t _actively_ seek him out whenever he goes to town. It’s not a _thing_ that he does a lot, and he doesn’t peek at him from behind people or furniture to make sure Victor doesn’t see him being a total creep, either. Who’s doing that? Not Yuuri.)

Victor’s eyes light up when they catch sight of him.

“Good morning,” Victor greets excitedly, making his way over to him. “Are you going to teach me how to skate?”

“Um, yeah.” Yuuri looks up at him with wide eyes. This is the closest he’s ever been to Victor Nikiforov.

“Perfect! I’m ready, let’s go,” Victor says. He grabs Yuuri’s arm and drags him off the bench.

_This_ is the closest he’s ever been to Victor Nikiforov. He stares at the spot where Victor’s hand grips his sleeve snugly. When Victor starts pushing him towards the ice expectantly, he blinks.

“You don’t have skates on,” Yuuri tells him.

“Oh! Right. Of course.” Victor smacks his forehead playfully and laughs. “Be right back.”

—

Yuuri eventually has to follow Victor back to the bench.

“This is hard to tie. Is it just me, or is this hard to tie?” Victor makes a face, dramatically wipes off invisible sweat from his forehead.

Yuuri kneels down in front of him, careful where to rest the blades of his skates. He takes Victor’s feet in his hands. “You just… it needs to be tight, see? So you don’t get hurt.”

He takes a few moments to make sure the laces are secure.

“There.” He leans back to admire his handiwork. When he looks up, Victor is staring at him. “What?” he asks nervously.

Victor smiles and sticks out a gloved hand. “I’m Victor.”

“I know,” Yuuri responds too quickly.

Victor cocks his head to the side. “Oh.”

_Crap_. He’s not worked this hard at trying not to look like a creep for nothing.

“Because… of your ad? You signed it,” Yuuri adds smoothly. He leaves out, _Also you come to my family’s hot spring often and I’ve never worked up the courage to speak to you. Mostly it’s because you’re naked–and not that I’m uncomfortable with nudity, don’t get me wrong, I **grew up** in the hot spring–but I can hardly handle you when you have clothes on. Please understand._

Fortunately, Victor accepts this easily, and Yuuri tries to hide his relief. “And what’s your name?”

“Yuuri.”

“Yuuri,” Victor repeats. He taps a finger to his lips and smiles like he’s remembered some sort of inside joke. He clears his throat. “Alright, Yuuri. Let’s learn this thing. I’ve got three hours and then I have some marble busts to sell off at the market.”

—

Yuuri doesn’t need to hold his hand to guide him along the ice, evidently. Victor actually has a pretty decent grasp on his balance and is able to skate along with him smoothly. Yuuri tries not to be disappointed by this.

They take a decent amount of time warming up; Yuuri knows these lessons are supposed to be an abridged version of what someone may learn in fifteen years of lessons, but he’s not taking any chances on Victor accidentally pulling a muscle and possibly further injuring himself.

Yuuri tells Victor this after he badgers him about moving on to jumps. Victor hums. “That’s not a bad idea. If I got injured, then I could get out of this performance easily.” He pauses. “Actually, never mind. Then they’d just ask for competition footage.”

“Competition footage?” Yuuri asks.

Victor licks his lips, looking embarrassed. “I, ah, told them I was also a junior world champion?”

“ _Victor_.” Yuuri sighs. “How’d you even manage to get away with something like that?”

“Oh, easy.” Victor looks rather pleased with himself. “I had someone Photoshop me onto a podium. It actually looks pretty legitimate. There’s a medal around my neck and flowers in my hair and everything. The photo’s so good, I nearly went to a lesson so that it could actually come true,” he giggles, gliding forward on one foot. His form isn’t so bad, though his ankle teeters to the side a bit; he doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s doing it.

Yuuri’s not sure whether to be impressed or horrified.

“So can you do it?” Victor asks, whirling around to face him, hopeful expression on his face. “Turn me into a junior world champion, Yuuri, please?”

Yuuri thinks this whole thing’s been doomed from the start, from the moment he read _‘I spent the money on marble busts instead._ ’ But the look on Victor’s face when he promises that _he’ll try_ erases any qualms he had about the situation.

—

Scratch that, the look on Victor’s face when he finds out Yuuri was an actual junior worlds champion is his favorite. He’ll do anything for that face. He’ll manipulate his way back into a juniors competition, maybe, just so he can grab the title again and see that face.

“You were an actual pro skater,” Victor says in awe. He won’t stop touching Yuuri, hands brushing his shoulders and roaming down his arms to grip his fingers in his excitement.

“It’s really nothing much,” Yuuri says shyly, cheeks undoubtedly flaming red. He squeezes back reflexively, only realizes it a half second later.

“I want to see it,” Victor tells him firmly, apparently oblivious to Yuuri’s heart hammering out of his chest. “The world champions medal.”

“The juniors one or the seniors one?”

Silence.

Then—

“You’re an actual world champion?” Victor’s disbelief echoes throughout the rink and prompts Takeshi to peek his head through the glass window of the rec door.

—

Coaching Victor is equal parts pleasant and harrowing. He’s built like an athlete (“Krav maga,” Victor winks at him) and moves with grace. That means that it doesn’t take him long to grasp the basic jumps, and even manages enough rotations for a triple toe loop by the third day of lessons. It also means that the choreography comes easily to him.

(And Yuuri doesn’t know if he’s flattered or mortified at the fact that Victor had went and watched Yuuri’s _Stammi Vicino_ program from all those years ago.

“You’re so good,” Victor gushes to him as they’re stretching on the morning of Day Four. “I showed everyone on my phone at Minako’s bar last night, and they’ve all already seen it.” He pouts. “How come I didn’t know you were such a celebrity in this town? The train station still has your posters up apparently.”

“Yeah, they really need to take those down,” Yuuri mutters. He stretches his legs out and leans forward to touch his toes. When he looks back up, Victor’s watching him with an expression that makes his stomach flip. “Stretch,” Yuuri reminds him gently.

He’s got to maintain some semblance of professionalism, or he’ll go crazy.)

The main issue is reconciling the two components. Victor, it seems, is utterly incapable of layering the jumps in with the dance, and an excruciatingly long Day Four ends with Victor sighing frustratedly. “This is never going to work. I wish you could just skate for me.”

Yuuri makes his way over to the speakers to start the music up again. “You’re doing really well,” he insists. A thought occurs to him. “I mean, we could always… no. Nevermind.”

He dismisses it quickly, but Victor raises an eyebrow. “We could always what?”

“It’s nothing. Nevermind.”

“Yuuri, what?” Victor frowns.

“…Have you heard of pair skating?”

—

It’s simultaneously the best and worst idea Yuuri has ever had, and Days Five and Six feel like forty-eight hours spent in heaven and hell. 

There’s so much touching. Actually there had always been a lot of touching, as if Victor’s fingers were constantly itching to reach out to Yuuri’s skin. But before the touches were light, feathery, fleeting, and Yuuri had thought it was the worst. He never knew when to expect it and got startled _every time._ Victor’s delighted reactions made Yuuri suspect that he secretly enjoys this–torturing Yuuri with his touch.

But now the physical contact is deliberate, prolonged; it’s fingers digging into his sides when Victor lifts him up, and it’s chests and thighs being pushed together when they topple over. And if Yuuri didn’t know any better, he’d also suspect that Victor’s started dropping him on purpose.

_But there’s no way he’d do that,_ Yuuri thinks to himself. _Why would he do that?_

The Nishigori family start making it a point to drop by during their practices, and Takeshi teases him in Japanese relentlessly; Yuuri’s never been more grateful for language barriers. Yuuko only offers small smiles, content to just be watching Yuuri skate again. The triplets whisper amongst themselves, heads bobbing over the side boards occasionally. Yuuri thinks he spies a camera phone at some point.

The fourth time Victor drops them in one hour, Yuuri sighs heavily. Victor’s arms wrap around him before he can roll over.

“Victor,” he chides.

Victor looks up at him innocently. “A total accident. Your shirt is slippery.”

“My shirt is slippery,” Yuuri repeats. And this is all the evidence he needs to confirm that Victor has been dropping them on purpose, though he still can’t imagine the reason why.

“Mmm,” Victor says. He rubs circles on Yuuri’s back. “See? Slippery.” When his hands start dipping lower, Yuuri’s breath catches in his throat.

“Wait, V-Victor–”

“What are they doing?” one of the triplets asks.

Yuuri’s head shoots up, just in time to see Takeshi clamp two hands over the girl’s eyes while Yuuko rips a phone out of her hand.

The Nishigoris stop coming to watch them after that.

—

Friday comes, and Yuuri doesn’t want to ask how Victor had managed to book him an extra ticket on his flight to St. Petersburg so last-minute. Victor insists on paying for it, too; it appears that he managed to sell off every one of his marble busts and, now sitting on a pile of money, upgraded them to first-class.

“Your coaching fee,” Victor tells him, crowding into his side despite the vast amount of personal space that their first-class seats offer.

“Here I was doing this for the Russian pick-up lines,” Yuuri says dryly. He smiles, though, and relaxes into the touch.

—

There’s a lot of sobbing from the Nikiforov family when they’ve finished performing. Yuuri doesn’t know whether or not he should question this. The entire Nikiforov family has proven to be just as eccentric as Victor–who holds a wedding anniversary at an ice rink, after all?

Victor shows him off eagerly, exchanges rapid-fire Russian with his relatives so Yuuri isn’t sure what he’s telling them. He just understands that they’re happy. They coo over him and their costumes and insist on taking several pictures with them both.

“ _Spasibo, spasibo,_ ” Victor’s mom cries at him. She smacks several kisses over his face as her husband looks on at him with a fond expression.

At one point, Victor introduces him to a blonde boy standing off by the punch bowl. “Yuuri, meet Yuri,” he says with a flourish. “My cousin, kind of.” 

_Kind of._ Yuuri thinks it’s best not to question this either. 

The boy named Yuri gives them a look of disgust. “You guys were terrible. I probably could have done better.”

Victor only beams in response.

—

“So, the Russian pick-up lines,” Victor says later in their hotel room, toweling off his hair. Yuuri tries not to focus on the fact that he’s shirtless and has just come out of the shower.

“I was just joking about that,” Yuuri mumbles, hiding behind his phone. He doesn’t know how, but Victor’s family members have all found him on social media and Phichit’s flooding him with notifications linking him to photos he’s been tagged in.

**Care to explain???**

**How could you have conveniently left out in our last video call that you have (1) returned to skating, (2) returned to _pair_ skating, and (3) are pair skating with a new beau?**

**You’ve met his family. This is quite serious.**

**How long has this been going on, Yuuri????**

**I thought we were friends.**

“Okay, so facts about my love life then,” Victor suggests, ripping his attention away from the texting bubbles flooding his screen. 

Yuuri looks at him in horror. “No, definitely not that.”

“Fact number one,” Victor says. And then he’s leaning over to press their mouths together.

**Author's Note:**

> ...come find me on tumblr pals!!! [@forovnix](http://forovnix.tumblr.com)


End file.
